


Coffee (Kind Of)

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Coffee, F/M, Fluff, Gender-neutral Reader, POV Second Person, Short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-25
Updated: 2014-06-25
Packaged: 2018-02-06 05:53:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1846852
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You run out of coffee and get a visit.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Coffee (Kind Of)

You sighed, taking a long drag from the mug of now-cold coffee at your left hand, and directed your attention back to the thick book of lore in your lap. It really wasn’t that interesting, but Sam and Dean needed the information they had gathered analyzed so they knew what they were dealing with. The brothers hadn’t given you much to work with though, just a few details from the murder scene before they passed out in their respective rooms, exhausted from the day spent driving. 

Working as the Winchester’s researcher had its crappy moments, but all-in-all you were happy to do the job. It was a safe role in the supernatural world and that was more than most people ever got. It also gave you an outlet to see Gabriel, your partner of a little over five months. Sam and Dean were unaware of your relationship, and you were perfectly willing to keep it that way.

You snapped out of your reverie, realizing for the umpteenth time that your attention had been wandering. You glanced at the clock on the wall, seeing that it read 2:45 AM. Reaching for your coffee cup, you registered through your sleep-deprived haze that it was empty once again. Blinking hard, you attempted to concentrate on the book. The words swam before your eyes and you tucked your legs up under you, hoping that bringing the book closer to your face might help you to focus your gaze. 

The sound of rustling feathers that always heralded the arrival of an angel sounded behind you.

“Cas, that you?” you called sleepily, your gaze not leaving the pages. The blue-eyed angel visited frequently, checking in on the boys and helping out when he could, but like all angels he popped in and out unpredictably, always off to somewhere important.

When no response came you lifted your eyes from the book, only to have them covered from behind by a big pair of hands that smelled strongly of caramel and leather.

“Guess again.” Came his slightly southern voice, a smirk evident in the tone.

You beamed and pretended to think. “Ummm... Dean. Definitely Dean.”

His hands disappeared from your face as he pouted down at you. “I so do not sound like Ken-doll. My voice is sexier.”

You laughed quietly, tilting your head backwards over the back of the chair to meet his amber eyes. “Hi, Gabe.”

His sulk instantly dissolved into a smile. You loved his smile, the way his eyes wrinkled at the edges as his mouth pulled up. He bent down, kissing your forehead and glanced at your lap.

“Sweet zombie Jesus, that is a humongous book! Why are you reading it?”

You roll your eyes. “It’s for a case. I think it might actually be the most boring book in all existence, and I’m out of coffee.”

He looks at you with an amused expression and snaps his fingers. “No you’re not.” You see steam begin to rise from your previously empty mug and grin. 

Extending your neck slightly, you reach up and peck his lips. “Thanks, love.”

“My pleasure. Where are the plaid encased terrors?”

“They went to bed.”

He raised his eyebrows as a smile pulls at his lips. “And left you out here all alone, doing their research? Numbskulls...” 

You nod and exhale heavily, returning your stare to the book in front of you. He snaps his fingers again and the tome is across the room.

“Pay attention to me!” He whines like a petulant three-year-old. You roll your eyes and find him gone from behind you. Looking around, you feel a sudden weight on your legs. His chin is resting on your knees as he sits on the ground in front of you, giving you his best puppy-dog eyes. You stare at him sternly for a few moments, but you can’t keep it up for long. Laughing, you tousle his golden-brown hair and his mischievous smile slides back onto his face.

He tugs you out of the chair to sit on the ground beside him, and you rest your head on his shoulder, breathing in his aroma of burned sugar. His hands rise to wrap around you as he pulls you closer to him, one hand running lazily through your hair. He presses a gentle kiss to the crown of your head, humming softly to himself, the vibrations of his voice going through his chest and carrying on into your body.

You sit like this for several minutes before his quiet melody lulls you to sleep. Your dreams take no distinct shape, colors and sounds and textures floating in and out of your mind.

You wake up in your chair and yawn, his warmth lingering, along with the smell of buttery cookies. You look about and sigh at the empty room and the clock that reads 3:00 AM. Gabriel was rarely able to stay long, due to the simple fact that, as an archangel, he had a plethora of duties to see to. You've accepted this as a fact of your relationship.

You flex your shoulders and pull the book back towards you, your hand bumping against the coffee mug causing you to notice its persisting heat. Smiling to yourself, you pick up the cup. Wrapping your hands around it, you take long sip, waiting for the welcome bitterness of caffeine to hit your throat.

You cough faintly and squint your eyes as the flavor meets your tongue. _This so does not count as coffee_ , you think. It was essentially a melted candy-bar in a cup. You could faintly taste caffeine, but the drink was overwhelmingly sweet. Vanilla, chocolate, toffee, cinnamon, syrup, and honey overpowering every other flavor. You shake your head. “Gabriel...”

**Author's Note:**

> Please feel free to leave comments and criticism for me, everything helps.


End file.
